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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27761794">so much i want to tell you, and nowhere to begin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronniesshoes/pseuds/ronniesshoes'>ronniesshoes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>30 Days of OTP [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:07:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27761794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronniesshoes/pseuds/ronniesshoes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger is made to wait</p>
<p>/ </p>
<p>one catching the other masturbating</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brian May/Roger Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>30 Days of OTP [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1346335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>so much i want to tell you, and nowhere to begin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>it's black weekend so today you get two sluts for the price of one! (but also fuck capitalism)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun slants, morning sleepy and warm, in through the open window. Roger can hear people talking on the street below, can hear their chatter and their shouting and music playing from somewhere closeby. He can just about pick out the tune as sizzling heat curls around the base of his spine, and he shifts his weight over to his left arm, reaches a hand down to curl around his cock. Brian slaps it away. Again. </p>
<p>Annoyed, Roger pushes back into the maddening strokes of Brian’s tongue. He knows it’ll make Brian stop—always does—and he’s right, Brian’s mouth instantly disappears from his ass to let out an annoyed huff. </p>
<p>“Right, off your hands,” he says, and Roger’s about to protest until the hand that had previously been clutching his thigh slides between his legs to cup his balls, punching a swear out of him. </p>
<p>Reluctantly, Roger sinks down onto his forearms, pushing his ass back. It doesn’t limit the movement of his hips, but he suspects that’s hardly the point. His cock is aching, and Brian rolling his balls in his palm is not helping.</p>
<p>“You’re honest to God the most impatient man I’ve ever met,” Brian says, not like it’s funny or adorable but like Roger’s getting on his nerves. </p>
<p>“Trying to get off before you start insulting me is all,” Roger snipes back. </p>
<p>He hasn’t had his first cigarette yet, and he’s starting to get testy. </p>
<p>Instead of replying, Brian licks a long, broad stripe from his balls to his hole, and Roger stiffens and whimpers. He drops his head, presses his mouth to his forearm to silence his panting breath as Brian licks into him, sending small explosions up his spine. When a thumb presses to his perineum, a sob tears through him. </p>
<p>“Fuck, Brian—” He arches his back, can feel Brian smile against him, maddingly—</p>
<p>The impossibly loud trill of Marimba sounds, and Roger groans.</p>
<p>Brian removes his mouth and picks up his phone. </p>
<p>"Come back here," Roger says, rolling over on his back to look up at Brian. </p>
<p>"Yes, I'll be there in ten," Brian speaks into the phone, eyes raking over Roger's body.</p>
<p>Roger's stomach drops.</p>
<p>"It was work," Brian says, opening his closet door and retrieving a pair of pressed trousers and a matching jacket in pale blue, "I'll be gone a few hours."</p>
<p>"But you <em> can't </em>," Roger insists, watching Brian get dressed with the same care he usually reserves for music or sex. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Brian says, and at least has the decency to look apologetic. "I'll hurry."</p>
<p>Roger squints up at him. He cannot wait ‘a few hours’, he needs to get off <em> now </em>, and frankly doesn't care much for Brian's excuses. </p>
<p>Brian leans down to brush his mouth over Roger's, and Roger catches a taste of himself. "Are you gonna wait for me?"</p>
<p>Roger quickly does the math. “Yes,” he lies.</p>
<p>“Good boy,” Brian says, threading his fingers into Roger’s hair for another kiss.</p>
<p>Roger follows him to the door, throwing on a button-up on the way. Brian is still noticeably hard, and Roger cups a hand around him while they kiss goodbye. The flare of heat in Brian’s eyes makes him shiver.</p>
<p>As soon as Brian is out the door, Roger grabs his dick, stroking it slowly as he contemplates how and where he wants to get off. The bathroom is definitely less of a hassle but not a particularly sexy setting, and the bed is huge and sort of lonely without Brian in it, not to mention Brian will have his head if he stains the sheets.</p>
<p>In the end, he waits. He smokes a cigarette hanging out the window, looking down at people on the street below, sends Freddie seven snaps which are all ignored, attempts to take a nap. It’s hard, he finds, to wait. He’s used to Brian dragging it out, used to being told to wait, to not come yet, to edge until he’s reduced to his aching cock, the sweet pleasure thrumming under his skin, but at least then Brian’s attention is all on him, there’s touch and there are words and a sweet, sweet promise.</p>
<p>Waiting at home, alone, is terribly, dreadfully <em> boring </em>.</p>
<p>When almost two hours have passed, he curls up in the armchair, tugs his briefs down. He doesn’t mean to touch, just wants to <em> look </em>, but then it’s too tempting and his hand is curling around his cock before he knows what he’s doing.</p>
<p>It’s hot and heavy in his hand and he tries to wait, he really does, but he's horny, and he misses Brian's mouth. It's not cheating if he doesn't fuck himself, he thinks—he can jerk off, throw the evidence away, and he'll be fine. Getting aroused again is hardly gonna be a problem.</p>
<p>Settling deep into the chair, Roger fists his cock and lets out a groan as he squeezes, hard. He should’ve brought lube, wishes his cock was slick, can almost hear the sound—</p>
<p>He jumps when the door opens, and Brian steps in, looking more delectable than ever. Roger watches his expression morph into one of annoyance when his eyes fall on the scene before him. "What's all this, then?" he asks, mouth pulling into a hard line. "Didn't I tell you to wait?"</p>
<p>"I didn't do anything," Roger says, cock jumping in his hand, "I'm waiting."</p>
<p>“You're not, though." Brian puts down his bag, puts his keys on the counter. Roger tries to determine his mood. He doesn’t sound <em> that </em> annoyed. "Can't you keep your hands off yourself?"</p>
<p>Roger stares, dry-mouthed, as Brian loosens his tie and steps closer. He wants so badly to push into his fist but he doesn't dare move. The intensity of Brian's stare makes him feel dizzy, the sound of his steps on the hardwood floors makes his mouth water. A large hand grabs his shoulder, and his cock twitches. </p>
<p>"Get off," Brian says, squeezing the muscle. It hurts, and Roger gasps and lets go of his cock. </p>
<p>Burning all over, he pulls his underwear up and scrambles to get off the chair. </p>
<p>"No, sit down," Brian says, taking up his vacated seat. He breathes out through his nose and spreads his legs.</p>
<p>Roger stares at the bulge in Brian’s trousers and slowly lowers himself to the floor. </p>
<p>"Since you can't keep your hands off yourself for a few hours, you better finish up right now," Brian says. He pauses, fingers lightly thrumming on the arm of the chair. Cocks his head as if considering something. Roger holds his breath, waiting for instruction. "Or perhaps this isn't the first time you've jerked off since I left?"</p>
<p>Roger swallows, almost wishes he had. He wonders how many times he could've come if he'd let himself, how sweet the humiliation would taste when he presented the number. He shakes his head.</p>
<p>Brian almost smiles. "So you've been dragging it out, have you? Been thinking about me?"</p>
<p>"Yes," Roger says, scrambling closer.</p>
<p>Brian's voice is sharp as he says, "sit!"</p>
<p>Roger instantly freezes. </p>
<p>"Go on," Brian says, sinking deeper into the chair, hands coming up behind his head, "get your cock out. Make sure you do as you're told this time."</p>
<p>Swallowing, Roger pushes his briefs down, maintaining eye contact as he does. He's embarrassingly hard, and just the drag of cotton over his cock makes it twitch and leak. </p>
<p>Silently asking for permission, he looks up at Brian, searching his eyes. Brian cocks an eyebrow, and with a racing heart, Roger licks a stripe along the palm of his hand and wraps it around his dick.</p>
<p>Brian’s lips tug into a smile, finally, at the sound Roger makes, high and embarrassingly needy. He’s been on edge all morning, and being exposed and vulnerable like this makes his head spin—if only he had his hands tied and a vibrating plug up his arse, because at least then he wouldn’t have to <em> do </em> anything, wouldn’t have to think for himself. His cock pulses in his hand.</p>
<p>“Slowly,” Brian says, “don’t sag. I want you to sit up nice and tall. Let me see you.”</p>
<p>Roger straightens. He drags his fist slowly up the length of his cock, looks down at it as he pulls the foreskin back to expose the head. He swears.</p>
<p>“You’re lingering,” Brian says, and Roger suppresses a groan and resumes the torturous pace.</p>
<p>“For how long do I have to keep doing this?” he asks, thinking it’s been too long already. That Brian is just as impatient, that he’s longing to force Roger’s face against the floorboard, smack his arse until it’s red and sore, until even the slap of Brian’s balls against it stings as he’s fucked into the hardwood floor.</p>
<p>"Until you come," Brian says simply. </p>
<p>Roger stills his movement. He runs his tongue over his teeth. His mouth is unpleasantly dry. "What are you gonna do?"</p>
<p>"I'm gonna watch," Brian answers. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, and he picks it up without looking away from Roger, caressing the fabric with idle fingers. His eyes are dark. "Go on."</p>
<p>"Don't you want to fuck me?" Roger pronounces, spreading his knees. He strokes the pads of his fingers over his bottom lip until his skin tingles, then slowly slips them into his mouth, works his tongue around the digits. He tightens the hold around his cock and matches the pace, lifts his gaze to Brian's. </p>
<p>Brian cock is bulging in his trousers and he is looking at him, mouth relaxed open. It sends a thrill through Roger to know he's being watched like this, and he lets out a moan, feels the vibrations in his fingers, then lets them slide out of his mouth, his bottom lip heavy and slick. He slips a hand under his shirt and brushes over a peaked nipple, inhales sharply through his nose when the sensation goes straight to his cock.</p>
<p>He knows the answer, of course. It’s there in Brian’s eyes, his heavy gaze, the set of his mouth and the tension of his jaw. Of course he wants to fuck him—no one looks as good as Roger does sitting on his lap, no one fits around his cock just as well. Brian wants to fuck him because he’s only human.</p>
<p>Roger knows this, and that’s why he lets go of his cock, drops down on his hands, crawls close to nose at the fabric pulled tight over Brian’s knee. He waits for Brian’s hand in his hair, heavy on the back of his neck, but it never comes.</p>
<p>He looks up, puts his elbows on bony knees, traces the bulge in Brian's trousers. He presses against the scratch of wool of the cushion where his shirt is unbuttoned, lazily searches Brian’s eyes. "Are you gonna let me suck you off?"</p>
<p>Brian shifts, exhales quietly through his nose. "I don't think so."</p>
<p>"But—" Roger begins, bewildered by the answer. Brian pushes him back by the shoulder.</p>
<p>"No touching."</p>
<p>Roger closes his eyes in frustration. He's desperate for it, can’t stand to be denied.</p>
<p>"Go on," Brian says, popping open his trouser buttons with one hand. </p>
<p>Roger watches, mouth salivating, as Brian frees his cock, long and thick and flushed, from his pants, sighing when his slender fingers close around it.</p>
<p>Roger grips his own cock then, the corners of his mouth tingling. Brian is looking at him and he wants to be pretty for him, wants his touch so badly he'll do just about anything to get it. </p>
<p>“That’s it, baby,” Brian says, voice low, almost sweet. “Show me how good you can be for me.”</p>
<p>Roger shakes his head, squeezes his cock. The floor is cold and he misses the warmth of Brian’s lap, misses his touch and misses the firm flesh of his cock against his tongue. </p>
<p>A low groan makes him look at Brian again. His wrist moves in quick, perfunctory flicks—taunting, almost—over his cock, smattering precum down the shaft. Brian watches himself and breathes.</p>
<p>Roger makes his own movements slow and deliberate, hoping Brian will copy him. He wants to see more of Brian's cock, wants to see his thumb flick over the swollen head, his Adam's apple chase a moan. He knows how Brian would tease Roger's own cock, finger's light and unsatisfying, and it's infuriating to see him jerk himself off like this, quick and dirty like he meant what he said, like he's not gonna let Roger touch.</p>
<p>"Brian," he says, because the least Brian can do is look at him.</p>
<p>"I know," Brian says. He lifts a hand to tug loose his tie, pulls it over his head. The fingers on his cock loosen as well, drags down the length of his cock, then up, pauses to caress the swollen head. Roger swallows repeatedly, jerks himself a little faster. "You want to look pretty."</p>
<p>Roger's heart races as he pushes himself up onto his knees, his hole twitching in anticipation. "How do you want me?" he asks, not bothering to play coy. He's waited <em> hours </em>, is done with Brian's games.</p>
<p>"Did I say you could stop?" Brian asks, letting go of his own cock and leaning forward, tie between his fingers. Roger can smell his arousal even from there.</p>
<p>"Are you gonna tie me up if I do?" Roger asks, pushing his tongue out, ready to choke on whatever Brian gives him.</p>
<p>"You didn't want to wait," Brian says, brushing a hand over Roger’s cheek.</p>
<p>Roger shivers.</p>
<p>"You wanted to get off," Brian continues, fingers quick in pushing the tie over Roger’s head, tightening it around his neck until he's uncomfortably aware of it even when Brian removes his hands. "So get off."</p>
<p>Roger makes a noise of frustration, and the tie pulls deliciously around his neck. He's gonna get off and he's gonna do it so well that Brian never lets him touch himself again. </p>
<p>He tells him so, and Brian leans back in his chair and smiles, hand finding his cock, matching his pace to Roger's.</p>
<p>Roger pushes two fingers deep into his mouth, eyes locking with Brian's, hand working quickly to fill his belly with liquid heat. Brian's grunting as he pushes into his fist, and Roger drags his fingers over his bottom lip until drool runs down his chin. </p>
<p>He's almost there, can taste it in the air, Brian's stare liquifying him, so heavy and so good. </p>
<p>He spreads his knees further, drags slick fingers over his balls, squeezes tight around his dick, eyes searching Brian's for permission to come.</p>
<p>"Stop."</p>
<p>Relief fights frustration, but not enough to stop a whimper from escaping as Roger lets go of himself and balls his hands into fists. </p>
<p>Brian's breathing heavily, sitting there in his suit with a hand around his dick. If Roger dared to, he'd sit up on his knees and drag his mouth over Brian's throat, taste the prickling salt that wasn't there in the morning.</p>
<p>"Come here."</p>
<p>Roger drags himself closer, sits on his hands, fingers digging into his thighs, and he’s almost shaking with it as he pushes his tongue out again.</p>
<p>“Good boy,” Brian says, and he’s pulling at his hair, finally, holding him in place as if Roger would ever dream of trying to get away. </p>
<p>Brian’s harsh breaths fill the room, quiet save for the quick movements of his wrists, and Roger watches until the very last moment, tongue slick and heavy against his lip and teeth. He hears and feels it before he tastes it, hot spurts hitting his face and tongue and dribbling down his chin, Brian sounding like he’s in pain almost, the fingers in his hair impossibly tight. </p>
<p>Roger swallows gratefully but doesn’t wipe his face, stays at Brian’s feet until Brian lets him push his hand away and take his still hard cock in his mouth, keeping it there and keeping still until it goes soft on his tongue, the proximity making him shiver. </p>
<p>Brian wipes the cum from his chin with a thumb and pushes it into Roger’s mouth in exchange for his cock, and Roger licks it clean and crawls into his lap, nosing at the corner of Brian’s jaw and shaking against the whispers of praise. Brian wraps strong fingers around his cock and jerks him slow and steady and with enough pressure that by the time Roger comes, tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes.</p>
<p>They’re quiet after, heads resting against one another, until Brian breathes out a sound of amusement that tickles Roger’s scalp.</p>
<p>“What?” Roger says, not bothering to look up from where he’s stuffing the tie into Brian’s suit pocket. </p>
<p>“You were so impatient,” Brian says, fingers finding his wrist inside his shirt sleeve. </p>
<p>“What’s your point?” Roger asks, even though he suspects he already knows. He tips his head up to receive a kiss.</p>
<p>“Mhm,” Brian says into the kiss but doesn’t elaborate, continuing the kiss for long minutes until Roger’s cock stirs in interest again. “I’m just saying,” he says when they break away, “that your impatience didn’t help you. If anything, it made the wait longer.”</p>
<p>“That’s because you’re cruel,” Roger says. </p>
<p>Brian kisses his temple, drags a smile across his forehead. “But you like that, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Roger curls a hand in Brian’s shirt and leans back to look at him, twists his mouth in faux contemplation. Cracks a smile when Brian’s softly amused gaze becomes too much. “Haven’t made me leave you yet.”</p>
<p>Brian kisses him hard, palms over his lazily stirring dick. His mouth is red and slick when they part, the warm amusement in his eyes easing into something else. “Better take good care of you,” he whispers, curling his fingers around Roger, “just to be sure.”</p>
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